One Single Fault
by memoriamemoirs
Summary: "If you had a single fault, you just could not last forever could you? You just could not last for me." In which he takes the dark path, and she's there to sing him home. Bethyl. ONESHOT.


[ Memory rushes in, then washes you away  
I am losing you to the sea  
I'll break from the weight of my mind,  
but your ghost I will gladly bear ]

"I'mma head out. Catch sumthin',"

"Be careful,"

"Mhm,"

And then you're off. The peaceful quietness that can only be found in the wilderness welcomes you back with open arms and you bask in the familiar comfort they bring you. You swiftly separate yourself from the people by the road, from the thinly veiled concern in Rick's parting words and let yourself empty you mind, just this once, and trudge along an overgrown path made god-knows-when by god-knows-who. There are hardly any birds anymore, none that dare make a sound anyway, but that's just fine by you. You're lucky if you spot any squirrels around here, but you know, as well as Rick does, that's not really why you're out here. And as the scenery closes in on you, as the trees create a canopy of leaves high above, preventing the sunlight from splitting through – as you venture further and further into the murky darkness, you hear it. Footsteps, so light they're barely there, but you've been listening so you catch them. And you can feel the effect they have on you, the knowledge they bring and the tension finally seeps slowly but surely out from where it has laid nestled between your shoulder blades for far too long. It's such a promising sound.

You stop by the base of a massive Georgia oak, rests your forehead on the bark, clutches the trunk so hard your knuckles turn white until finally, the sound stops and she's there, a presence at your back, mimicking your exact posture when she rests her forehead against your back, right between the angel wings.

"Took ya long enough," you grumble half-heartedly, letting your impatience be known.

"Came as fast as I could," she whispers and the puff of her breath leaves goose bumps on your skin.

"Wasn't sure ya were even gonna show," you admit.

"When have I ever let you down, Daryl Dixon?"

And that's the truth, right there.

You slide down the trunk, rest your back against it, lets her nestle in between your legs, as have become your habit. She grabs one of your worn hands in her delicate one and twines your fingers together. Your eyes are closed but you can smell her, peaches and sunrise as you borrow your nose in her hair. She's sporting that signature ponytail that makes her seem so young, so innocent, and maybe that's because she still is, it's all she'll ever be now.

She hums, she knows you like it, and then she sings and it allows you to rest, if only for a few moments. Her songs are usually happy these days, sometimes they're not, but soulful nonetheless and filled with peace. A peace that you desperately try to grab and hold on to.

[ And with all your grief in my arms I will labor by singing light  
I'll keep my lanterns lit  
I'll keep my lanterns lit  
I'll keep my lanterns lit ]

"You're quiet," she observes once she's finished.

You only hum and pull her in closer, can feel the giggle that bubbles up from her chest when you awkwardly grab the wrong spot and let go as if you've been burned.

"It's alright, Daryl Dixon. You can't do no wrong by me," she smiles and rests her head back on your broad shoulder.

"Not anymore," you lament.

"Not ever. Never did," she whispers back.

You don't have to say anything to that. She understands you like no other, and knows that there isn't a snowball's chance in hell you're ever gonna believe those words. You can't.

"Been gone for too long," she eventually says and you feel your throat constrict because you know what this means. When you don't make a move to get up, she turns so she can stare at your profile, ignoring how you stubbornly refuse to meet her eyes.

"They'll worry,"

"Let 'em," you say.

"No," she denies sadly, "No, I won't do that,"

And when she pushes away to let you up, you do as requested because you know she can't be bargained with. And as you stand, she helps you wipe you clean of the forest floor, her eyes smiling again. It's all you could ever wish for, her to smile.

"Go on," she urges eventually and before you have half a mind to step back, she's on her toes and kisses your cheek. It's sweet but fleeting, just like her.

"Tomorrow?" you ask, because you have to know, need to be sure. You always do.

"Tomorrow. Now go on, I'll sing you home," she promises, and with that she's back to humming, walking two steps behind you all the way back to the road, to the people waiting for you. And as you push through the underbrush, her voice grows distant, weaker and you know that as soon as you enter that road up ahead, it will have disappeared completely. It always does. Until tomorrow.

[ If you had a single fault,  
you just could not last forever could you?  
You just could not last for me. ]

**AN: **A small, simple, sad little oneshot. There will not be a continuation, this was simply written to air my thoughts and something I felt like I had to get out of my system.

The song is "Lanterns lit" by Son Lux. I suggest you take a listen, it fits these two so well.


End file.
